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r 1 ITTIT P1 if "j I 5 r u ft VOL. XXIX. FULTON, CALLAWAY COUNTY .MISSOURI. OCTOBER :iO, 1874. NO. 51 T71 pin IS ai K: to l r jt initoii lflcfiaplj. - .THOMAS YARN. lie was ft i'ailuro, an innocent, colorless fni hue, holding his place in t lie energetic town of Mossbrook rather becauso lio was 'too.: amorphous to bo kicked out 1 halt from any power of his own to keep in. lJvhonias Yarn had never made a living, bill had hung, a barnacle on somebody; else's i living all bin life. He was ngly'aiul dirty, anil poor anil lazy, yet these- terms seem too strong: for so nebulous a creature. The colors in which his portrait should be painted are what the French taints (hiiradcit, gnu 11 y brown, pale olive greens, mixed and tardy grays; no black, no white, no red; all shadow, dead lights, a poor, forlorn, faded picture, which no gallery coveted. Jlo was a sort of connecting link between -thu earthworm and man, suggest ing bet h ext rcmes. Yet the creature was kindly, and had his own little corner of wit and humor; once in about ten years ho said a good thing, lie bad never harmed anything, not even n fly; in fai t, he and the Hies were rather intimate, ami had acquired a right of possessorsldp from long occupancy of a dirty ciirtainless tavern window, which was the height from which Thomas Yarn surveyed life as it went on in Mossbrook. He was in some remote way supposed to be a gentleman, perhaps because ho never "xid anything, perhaps for a better reason. At any rate, he was tolerated in some of the best front parlors when on centennials, and on such infrequently-occurring occasions Jic put on a clean shirt and madu a call. Thomas Yam was not dirty for the same reason that it is said to have governed a celebrated English scholar, "because it rhymed witli Goethe;' no, poor Thomas was not even literary, that next to nothingness in good,hard-working New Ehghwyl. His habits grew out of a slovenly soul; the cold waters of energy and ambition bad never cascaded dcTwii Thomas Yarn's back. He was Blink low in the slums of laziness and inertia. Who knows what had deprived Thomas, Yarn, of. his birthright of success? . Who knows what heart-aches had -paralyzed his energies? Who knows any of tho great secrets of Nature"' why one brain works ami another will not? And why otic man sits still while another man runs? Oim thing Thomas ,1 arn always possessed, and that 'was; the villago news. The tavern-window, in spite of the Hies, wiis a good Held of observation, lie went round with the returns of elections, with the deaths and marriages, and the latest, well-authenticatod scandal. Never malignant., never prone to sec evil, Thomas still told what ho heard an invaluable local newspaper. He would put his sad figure in i penitently at the side-door, as if to say that, the news he brought was his onlv excuse for being. Thei-b .wore, rumors of his once being seen driving horse, but this was not well authenticated. . It gave too much iVnergy and decision to I ho picture, and was rejected bv most as impiobablo; but one great, grand, important thing he had done, one evUMtilluiiiinated his existence, and he never "Was tired talking of it. He bad once been married, and he could not tt forget t 'vt. of Mint forget tho pride, pomp and circurnsfauce, hat occasion. ossiblv at that moment ho might have C I'osm ""Jiecu cl leaner and more prosperous than at any subsequent one, else why did that very pretty, girl, with her long, black hair always remembered in the villago admiringly why had she soover-estimated -Ji"''-01 '.powers of endurance as to marrvL'tfhv"afi Yarn? Marry him she did, niuL' ii situ rally .died in two years, to be over after the p-ri1n"at beauty and saint of his lite. He never could sufficiently praiso her hair. IIo placed it among the constellations like Berenice's, and wore one long trcw, folded in China paper, next his heart. Tho way ho worshipped j his "Marv ill heaven'' affirmed Thomas Yarn's claim to the the name of gentle-iuai'r,Hflmt been in business when he married, but ho failed immediately, and that continued to be his business forever afterl'ITlic tvenf swallowed him up, aiiditwa8'on:it9 worm-eaten porch that he ih-sl'ietirticd'thnt he was remembered in Governor Hammond's will. Some one else knew .that' piece of news before he did. 1 , Governor 'Hammond was a rich and prominent citizen, who had been terribly stricken.- In tho midst of his prosperity, by the death of his only Ron, a young man but a lew years married, who had left one young daughter. It was a proud old name, and Governor Hammond did not like to have it die out. lint fate was stronger than he. He left bis fine 'property to this little girl, something itfclh same disappointed frame of mind as Dombcy, and he added a singular codicil. It was to charge his executors to pav a small annuity to Thomas 'arii,,iind" to give him the charge of his library,' which was large and in great disorder, aud which needed attention and repair. - r This library', had come from two lawyers, ouo gentlcmau and one clergyman ancestor, as Governor Hammond was fond of explaining his various forbears, and, had been generally tumbled in by tho Govci'ii6r, no great reader, Into an unoccupied room, which was not uusuit-ed to it, being in a wing of the house in which' Emily',' tho child-hcircss, lived with her ount Margaret ami the old servants. The little unconscious owner of all this .'rambling property was a healthy, hearty, robust little girl, with an early propensity tor talcs of fancy, and legitimately for novel readings blie spent her Saturday afternoons, and sonic part of tho next f day, in her library, sitting on the top step of a ladder reading "The Cottages! of, (lleiibuiuie, "A Simple Story," or ".tJuuldetis of Warsaw." There, wrapped ili the delicious mantle of romance, would fchc sit lor hours, while Thoiotrs Ytirni would 'look up from hi paste-pots as ;k dreamy mole might contemplate a"bnttcrily. ' He and she were great friend; not having arrived at tho critical age etif-i did not notice his soiled habits as Aunt Margaret did, but willingly put her soft, w hile hand in his, and was led to Si-try's grave, listening with much gravity to the account of that famous wedding, and looking with sweet- Iv-sorrowfnl eyes at tho long tress of bKati'tifur nSr. It was a pari of Saturday afternoon to Emily; a part of "Thaddeusof Warsaw;" a part off, tl'atgqnicn prime which luniiy wai nass'ing through; anil, as ho was in- duh'cut. ami let her press wild-Hewers in some of tht! bfd theological works, Emily thought, ho was a model librarian.. ' Kmilv found the library rather over stocked with the sermons and grave folios of her clergyman ancestor, ralher too sparfelK' fhrniklied with tho "Thaddous of Warsaw'' school of literature. She bad gone tlirough Scott, and gentle Miss Austin, and Miss Edgeworth, and dull old Mrs. Sherwood, whoso story of "Rich in the IviUhen and roor in tho 1 arlor, is chiefly valuable for its recipe for mak- ing goosoborry-l arts. ' Sim had wept, over that -redeeming work nt "Little Henry and his Hearer:" she had shuddered over "The ltufllan Itoy;" and she had got to l'ope. .Then she began to sigh for fresh Holds and pastures new. Cooper she bad tried and could not; and, as lor the theo logical works, what wcro they good for but to tiress (lowers in.' O, old .dry doctors! did not your pul- sos beat as this image ot spring and hope and joy threw open your musty pages oinl lai.l llio freKhly-galhcred flowers in i-nni1 heavy grasp? Were these tho only llowcrs you had helped "to' press down mid ill" IJIlV Who will road those accumulated words of wisdom old sermons, thoolog tcul trrtktisos rei-ordsol iindymgdiillnesr Why doo the greatest of subjects load to such poor writing: I wish thero wore some novels, said Emily, one day, from the top of the step-ladder.Novels a'n't good for young people, said Thomas Yarn. Hut I like them I like a book that is very beautiful in the beginning, and very sad in the middle, and very liiagniticent at the end! said Emily, who did not want for words. Well, I guess you'd better not read so many of 'em. That isn't at all like life, said poor -Thomas, remembering the tavern window. Resides your Aunt Margaret says you walk in your sleep, and havo bad dreams, and I guess you'd better go oft and get some more wild-flowers. So Emily would dance otr to the woods, and Thomas looked up some more novels for her, and finding a good, old-fashioned story; would leave it accidentally on the top of the step-ladder, sufficiently rewarded if ho saw her flush of pleasure as she discovered it. Thero were no poisonous plants in this Forest of Ardennes all was tho good, wholesome pasturago of which Charles Lamb speaks; and the young maiden who was thus set free was as protected as tho lady in "Coinus," or that other delicious creature of whom great English Shakspearo says: "A thousand liveried angels lackey her." Thomas Yarn, in spite of his inability to make a living, was so good a creature that his virtue shone througlHiis bedraggled exterior, as the sun himself 6honc through that taveru-window through which lie saw the distant world. Miss Margaret, rectangular spinster that sho was, permitted him the guardianship of her niece without fear nay, she cvou admitted him to tho icy, frigid .one of virtue which surrounded herself. He sat on the edge of his chair iu her presence when he told her the scraps of news sho so dearly loved to hear. Oh! on one of these occasions, what a piece of news she told him! Y'ou may shut up the library, Mr. Yarn, I am going to lake Emily oft' to school. The trustees will allow you. your accustomed stipend (Miss Margaret loved to uso a new and grandiloquent phrase as well as another), and your work can be resumed in tho spring; now 1 prefer to have the library shut. Good evening! And sho swept out. without a loot;; besides, who had ever flattered him, or softened the asperities of Fate to this creature? Poor Thomas! From him that hath nothing, shall be taken even that he hath! , lie took out tho piece of folded China paper, and looked long at the tress of black hair, lie wondered, knowing how low down ho was, that he could be so exquisitely miserable. There is a great talent iu human nature for pain and suffering and dull grief. That side of our nature seems to bo singularly gifted. Wo have no such unlimited powers in tho way of joy and gladness. After the sixteenth year of existence is passed, it seems doubtful if any one can feel rapturously happy for a very long tunc say three minutes". But the power of suflor-i ing constantly grows with our growth, and strengthens with our strength. No one ever complained that ho had not talent enough lor this sort of thing. Even Thomas Yarn, who had seemed to have talent for nothing else, felt within himself the comprehension of an intellectual colossus for Buttering. . . It is a hard thing to take out of a poor life tho friendship, the unquestioning love of a child. 11c saw Emily furtively during those years when she danced over that mysterous land that borderland of girlhood and womanhood but. when she came home from boarding-school, and looked at Thomas Yarn with new eyes he who had not grown cleaner, or younger, or more agreeable ho felt that ho had lost his little friend. She reinstated him in tho library ; but she came there seldom herself; she had a new book to read her own romanco was being written ; lovers were coming in the flesh, instead of on the yellow pages of her old books so Thomas ana .Memory uustcu . aione. One day Thomas took down a volume of Scott's "Commentaries," iu which he saw a moth creeping, and, as he did so, a wild-llowcr fell out one of those which had not been elevated to tho dignity of Emilv's herbarium. It was a heavy old book with a parchment coyer, and, as lie. dusted and shook it, Thomas l a in shook out his fate a tolded paper fell to the ground with bits of fern, a pressed vio let, lady'8-shppor, ana several lrmgcd polygalas. ... , .. It was-a will, no Knew me nana writ ing well, for in his struggle for cxistauco lie hail been a copyist, and had often met the still, stately otci-iasuioncu, copper plate hand of Governor Hammond. He read on through tne lormai purases aim legal forms ho read on as a man docs in a dream, and he never knew how long it took him to find out what was written on that piece of paper. He might have fainted away n so, ho came .to ail by himself. It was a will, leaving all his property to his natural son, Ihomas Yarn. It was witnessed by ueuorau Doolittlo (misnamed woman !), then and now cook to tho establishment, and by old Deacon Ilamscy, who had been gathered to his father. Thomas Yarn remembered the date of the will which had given all the property to Emily, yes, this was written a year alter, it was not recorded, that ho knew well, but he thought Deborah would remember sittuinir it. He went through all these mental operations with hall his mind, tho other halt was paralyzed with surprise. lie was looking at it with biearcu eyes when he heard a fresh voice singing in the hall.. Ho had just time to put the paper in perhaps the poorest old .pocket in the world, when Emily opened the door. Thomas Yarn was surrounded with faded wild-flowers. Ho even had a piece of fern in his hand, endeavoring to hold it as if it were a thing to which ho was accustomed. . ' " : " ' -''-' How Emily laughed as she saw him! - So vnu have found sonic of our old flowers.1 How yellow they arc poor thiuiis! Look at that violet, 'lliey are like nconle who have bad sickness and trouble. I wonder n 1 snail ever iook like one of those! . . Yes they are vellow, said hoinas fee bly, do you remember when you put them here ( I remember I Why not ; it might have been tho summer after 1 had the measles, or tho summer before I went to school ; 1 don t remember ! Thos. Yarn took his wav home that day through the kitchen. It was not the first time, for Deborah was very apt to way lav'him with the proll'er of a cup of tea, or some of her nice dishes, always doing it with respect, for she thought, with the rest' of Mossbrook, that Ihomas was poor gentleman ; and he, not a person to be invited to dinner, would nausc fur tively, and at Deborah's neat table snatch a cup of tea or rich doughnut, grateful variety to tavern fair ! So. when he appeared down tho stairs Deborah bustled round, and put a plate and knife and fork on the side-table. No, "said Thomas Yarn, nothing to eat Why! whatsomevcr has happened to von. Mr. Yarn? said Deborah. You look as white as a sheet ! Deborah, do vou remember witnessing a paper for. Governor Hammond in his last illness ? Well, yes, I guess I do, Mr. Yarn. Tho Governor was terrible queer in his last sickness." Ho wandered round, and went to the library, and woiildn' stay in bed, and wrote things. Yes, me and Deacon Itainsey see him sign something 1 suppose it. was his will, giving ovcrthing to Miss Emily. Ho was awful troubled, tho Governor was. After his son died l-.e got queer, and then after Miss Hammond died, he got queerer. 1 expect the Governor had been rather hard on the poor when he was inaking.his fortune. Deborah, put on your spectacles, aud see if this is your signature ? Deborah produced some very large glasses, and proceeded to lit them with dilheulty on a very small nose. Well, yes, l wrote that. 1 never was good with my pen ;' and I was kind of flustered when the Governor he called me, and deacon Ifamsey he was coughin' awful at tho time; he died, poor man, before tho Governor did ; and then 1 hail my dinner on, aud the soup was a-buriiin.Thomas Yarn was half up the street before Deborah had finished, and had reached the register's ollicc. Yes, Emily's will was recorded ; this was not, but this was written a year after the other. Then the poor soul traveled back on his recoiled ions, aud he saw, here aud there, the figure of that stately man, who had been his father; ho recognized, hero and there, that he must have secretly helped him from time to time; ho remembered, too, that he had not helped him when help might have saved Mary, and his soul swelled with bitterness, lint, in the hours that death waited for the Governor, ho had .paid this tardy debt to conscience. He had laid the paper in tho old book, he had scut Thomas Yarn to the library, and ho had left the rest to chance. Miserable vulgar fraction of conscience-money ! Miserable playing with justice! Governor Hammond, like many a dignified gentleman, uncovered his real character in his will, aud showed the poor and mean thing which a line appearance had draped and ornamented. Thomas Yarn went to Marys grave and considered. Ho saw from that humble spot Governor Hammond's tall Corinthian column gleam through the trees. Ho thought of the change it would make in the village treatment if he announced the fact. Tho tavern-window would cease to bo his post of observation ; he would sit of an evening on that broad piazza where Miss Margaret and Emily received their guests ; it would bo his own l.-.. . -. Ho would "become a man of fortune, a power in tho State. He looked down at his garments. It even occurred to him that he. should have a new suit of clothes; but, as these airy visions floated before him, he looked again iu the grass at the stone, and read : - "MABY, WIFE TO THOMAS YAltN, DIKD SKl'TEMBER 23, 1835, AK122." and he decided that he did not want fortune, fame, consequence enough to take it away from Emily, his child-friend. She, next to Mary, was the thing dear to Thomas Yarn. Often ho determined to burn the will, but he did not.. He-even bought a piece of oil-silk, and carefully folded it around tho paper before returning it to his ragged pocket. Sometimes, when ho was particularly forlorn, ho would take it out and read it, and become a rich man for a few hours ; then Emily's laugh woulp resound through the house, or lie woujd sec her, gay and triumphant, driving oft to picnics and to sleigh-rides, the successful young heiress and belle of Mossbrook, and ho would fold it away. Thomas Yarn watched with a jealous eye the men who approached Emily, and he saw to his sorrow that she began to blush and look down when Horace Fra-zicr came near her. It began to bo village talk that there was to be an engagement.Now, Horace Frazier had conic to Mossbrook to study law ; he was not of the town. Perhaps he brought some foreign graces with him ; he was handsome, dressed well, and had fascinating manners. Uut the tavern, in this instance, had become an important post of observation, and Thomas Yarn knew of nights passed in gambling, of drunken bouts, of the grime and degradation of a dissolute life. Yet what could he say or do i What headway make against this young and clever man ? liefore he had resolved on his course of action, Emily had conic into the library, and had announced her engagement . to him. ' ' O, Miss Emilv! don't! IIo isn't worthy of you ! He is a gambler, a drunkard, and worse ! Don't lovo such man ; don t marry him, I beg of you I burst from poor Thomas Yarn's lips. To describe Emily's indignation would be impossible. The sun iu the heavens was not more illustrious than Horace Frazier in her eyes. To attact him aud to her I' She swept out of tho library, after a vigorous denunciation, aud Aunt Margin et swept iu. It had been a part of Horace a razicr's policy (gracetui good- for-nothing) to win the older woman first, and she had but to hear the dread- lul news ot the attack to rush to the battlements and mow down Thomas Y'arn with a well-directed volley. I hear that you dare, Mr. Yarn, to in sult my niece, and to assail the character of her intended husband you, Mr. Yarn! Who aro you ( WIiv, my relative, Gov ernor Hammond descended so far as to mention you in his will, I never could un derstand. Y'ou, slothful, dirty, poor, mean, iiisignitieanl you dare to speak of gentleman a well-dressed gentleman like Mr. Frazier? Leave this house, Mr. Yarn (you never ought to have been allowed to conic into it), and never let these eyes behold you again ! Miss Margaret held out a linn lorcimger as she spoke, like a third-rale Lady Mac beth. Ihomas 1 am rose slowly and walked out; yet, as he passed her, he fired one Parcnthiau arrow. I will save Emily vet, said he. Go, base creature! said Miss Margaret furiously. When Mr. Frazier came to tea that eve ning both ladies received him with great cr tenderness than ever, ins waisicoai was very perfect ; his necktie aud con vcrsalion delightful ; ho was a handsome fellow, and iu love. ; They did not tell him how cruellv ho had been slandered. Thomas Yarn watched him for a few weeks, hoping that love might make a better man of him; but no, it did not. Tho play went on; the drinking-bouts continued; even Emily began to see some signs which troubled her, but, womanlike, she only loved him bettor. That he made her heart tremble and ache, was part of the agitation ol tlxj period. Then Thomas Yarn took a determination. He went to Judge Sutherland's of- lice, and had a private consultation with that eminent jurist ; ami the next night, as Horace D razier came up the tavern-steps, fresh from his courting and fresh from Emily's sweet presence, on his way to the card-room, Thomas Yarn stopped him. Mr. Frazier, Judge Sutherland desires to see you in No. 17, if you please. ( Frazier sullenly turned towards the room, lie was a student in the judge's ollice, and expected he knew not what iu the shape of a reprimand. He was surprised and offended when Yarn entered the room and locked the door. Judge Sutherland's dignitied presence, however, silenced him, and he seated himself awaiting the revelation. Mr. Frazier, we are about to make a confidence to you, and, as a man of honor, I ask you to give me your promise that vou will not reveal it." Certainly, sir, 1 give you my word. It deeply concerns you, a.s 1 understand that you arc to marry Miss Hammond; it deeply concerns me, as I am one of tho trustees of her supposed estate; it deeply concerns Mr. Yarn, as he is the real owner of that estate. Here is a will, which vou shall read ; it is a perfectly legal doc ument, although not registered. Ono of the witnesses to the signature is still living. Ot tho contents of the will I am not ignorant, having been consulted as to its form. 1 have also known for many years, as a professional secret, that Mr. Yarn was a natural sou of Gov. Hammond', but 1 hail supposed Unit my old friend had abandoned his project of making this will. Here it is, and in my opinion it will stand. Horace Frazier read the paper with attention. It was ruin to him, aud he looked it; but he said nothing. Once he turned and gave Thomas Yarn a searching, contemptuous, and almost amused look. You are a good-looking fellow to turn a young lady out of her property! said he coarsely. Thomas Yarn did not answer. Judge Sutherland did. No abuse Mr. Frazier. Mr. Yarn is treating you most honorably. He is not ready to make this will public just yet, but he wishes you to know of it in order that vou may not be disappointed in regard to your future wife's property. If you love her well enough to marry her, a penniless girl such as she Is, that of course, is a matter into which I shall not enter. Put it is our duty to let you know that Mr. Yarn will, in the event of your marriage produce this will, and proceed to claim his property and the judge pushed up his glasses. Horace Frazier was stunned, as well he might be. Judge Sutherland was a dry, convincing sort of terrible man; what he said must be true. Do you think. Judge Sutherland, that Mr. Yarn has any chance of success? It may be enough to say to you that I have advised him to try, said tho judge drvlv. Yes, that was quite enough for Horace Frazier. Ho loved Emilv. iu his selfish way, for herself; but he was not the man to do a generous deed, and lake her with out a penny. Emily an heiress was quite another thing from Emily penniless. Thomas Yarn had not mistaken his man. He left town verv shortly after, and wrote a few very love-like letters. Then he went through the usual process of pretended jealousy, coldness and neglect ; then writing her that, as he knew lie was not worthy of her, ho must beg that their engagement might come to an end. He had told the truth lor once. He was not worthy of her. But it took Emily some time to sec that love's young dream can have an end. Sho went through the usual delusions ; thought he still loved her, and tliat'somc enemy had done this thing. The leaf of music which fluttered oil' the piano in the evening breeze brought back the hour when he had gracefully stooped to pick it up for her; the flowers about tho piazza still breathed ot him : the west wind brought her his whispered vows; the moonlight seemed but to east shadows which might be his. It was hard to ac cept life without him. Emily had never met pain before ; it came with its usual intensity to the voting and strong. She sought to escape it, to believe in him, to torgive him ; and sho would have done so to the day of her death hail not a newspaper fallen into her hand with the news of his marriage yes, so soon, too ! Ah. Horace, you might have waited ! Trembling old Thomas looked on the surgical operation which ho had perform ed ; sadlv he watched the pale cli&ok and the dejected attitude as she sal, once again his silent companion, in the old library. He would have given all the for-ture that he had not had, twice over, to hear her laugh ; but it was too late. Could he have foreseen this, ho would not have frightened Horace Frazier away. Hut, before a year had passed, thchcaltliy and prosperous young girl began to re cover lrom her heart-break. The same temperament which had induced her to throw "Thaddeusof Warsaw" half across tho room, in her excitement at itsrapidly-changing tone of joy and despair, came to her rescue. The unmitigated worth-lessncss of her late lover's character began to come to her, although she did not know tho half. That knowledge sometimes is a good medicine for a heart dis eased. Aunt Margaret, too, was as vio lently tlesillusloitee as could bo desired ; but she never forgave Thomas Yarn, nor invited Inm to the edgo ot a chair for ever more, in her cool parlor. Before three vears had passed, Emily had replaced Horace Frazier by a far better man. Thomas Yarn had "kept his secret, and had seen his Emily as ho be lieved sate. lie crept to the library not often now, for his breath was getting short, his heart beat painfully; he was going down to that quiet resting-place, by the side of Mary,- for which ho had long prayed. Deborah began to go over to him, now, with comfortable soups and encouraging wines. Excellent Deborah, mis-named Doolittle! Happiness did not harden that good young heart, which had been such a dear thing to ihomas 1 aru. She never forgot him, but even on her marriage day sent over to sec of ho could not come to the wedding; but no, ho was too feeble. Deborah said lie would sit up at tho win dow and see her go by ! So ImiuIv, in her white robes, looked up at tho tavern-window as she drove to church, and kissed her white-gloved hand to the faded figure who watched her' as she passed. He had given Deborah a messago for her, to bo delivered when she came home from her wedding-journey. Tell her, ho said, that sho will lind my gift in the second volume of Scott's Commentaries, on the third shelf of the library.Just write that down, Mr. Yarn, if vou please ; my memory ain't what it was, said Deborah. Thomas Yarn wrote a neat hand. It was the only thing ho did neatly. He wroto it, and added, among the wild-flowers.And when tho beautiful, proud, happy young bride came home, she went with her hand in her husband's, to sec the prcftcnt. Aunt Margaret followed, saying, Poor Mr. Yarn has saved a little money, I don't doubt, and ho has given it all to you ! There were tears in Emily's bright eyes. She did not follow Aunt Margaret's meaning. She was thinking of his lonely lot, and of her own dear happiness. She opened the book, and there, with some faded llowers, lay the folded paper. She and Miss Maegarct read it together. They did not understand it until Emily's husband interpreted it for them. They had been living for three years in Thomas Yarn's house on siill'rance. Ho had been their host, knowing that at any moment he could turn them out if ho chose. He had not forgotten to add a will of his own, giving all the property once again to Juuily the property he had never touched. Where is ho ? said Emily, wildly ; let mo go to him ami tell him "what 1 think of him ! Oh, my dear, hain't you heard? said Aunt Margaret. He has been dead a fortnight ; he died on your wedding day. ABOUT CATTLE. The books tell us that flic first cattle imported into Ibis country were by Columbus iu 1-103. The first importation by tho Plymouth Company in 1021. A few years ago the Dutch brought them to New Hampshire. The average weight of these cattle was a little less than 300 pounds; In 1710 the average weight of beef cattle in London market was 370. In 1K03 it hail gone up to -l'.W pounds. In 1833 the average weight had increased to 73( pounds. Since then the average has steadily advanced until in Hie Brighton market of Boston, to-day, they average fiO percent, more than in Will. The largest beef reported in tho books was raised by Mr. John Sanders, of Massachusetts, weighing 3,i.00 pound live weight. Mr. William Smith, of Detroit. owned Hie steer, ''Groeloy," weighing 4,110 pounds gross ; net, 3,700. At the present time it is a common occurrence that a shipment of Illinois cattle average 1,('00 pounds. The increase in the weight ami consequent value, has been brought about by judicious selection and feeding JOHN BROWN-CAPITALIST. Brown was dead. 1 had heard it on my way down town in the morning. Of course it made a great impression on me when I heard it. To be sure, it went out of my head as soon as I had fairly cnter-cred upon the day's business, but at every breathing place, half a dozen times during the day, the. mournful thought again and again obtruded itself Brown dead ? Is it possible ? Brown and I had known each other for years. We did not meet regularly in business; that is, he had iu a measure retired from active business; at least he was no longer in f rattle, while 1 am still in the thick of the hubbub. Brown ruled as a capitalist. That is the way his name appeared in-public. It was so in the city directory, lie was so known in business circles, and as a director iu several large and proli table moneyed institutions. But he always put iu a full day at the bank and the dillerentofliees where his pecuniary interests were located. And so I had met Brown on the street, at. any time of day, for tweiiiy-tivo years. Not a sociable man. But always had a look of sociable recognition for another whose check was good for a large amount at the bank. Iu short, Brown was an excellent judge of men, and recognized worth at a glance. So I was always friendly with Brown, although we had L never exchanged twenty words outside ol the bank in all t lie twenty-live years. Brown was not a talking man. I had a most profound respect for Brown. Ho was worth more than $2,000,000; that I knew; and he was making more money every day than a hundred skilled workmen could earn by hard labor from sunrise to sunset. Brown was a self-made man. He was entitled to the sole credit for the position he occupied in the world, and he took it. Brown had made every cent ol his money, and he knew the value of it. He was an example of what a man is capable of becoming, and ho knew it. And what a pattern lie was to young nien of business, to be sure. Vacations summer trips, and such like nonsense he never indulged in. Bain or shiiie.dust or snow, ho was to be found at his post iu all weathers, day in and day out. Well, Brown is dead Not a domestic man. In fact, Brown's family were almost always out of town; and after he lost his wife, a good many years ago now, it was seldom that cither of his children were at home, I believe, until his daughter had linishcd school. Then she came and stayed awhile, but was married soon after. " I heard that Brown didn't like the match. I know that she aud her husband went oil' West, aud I remember of hearing of her death when it occurred. That must be some twelve years ago. Some ono told me that, she was very poorly oil when she died, but I dare say her husband was a beggarly fellow, with no business tact, and likely enough ho married Brown's daughter to get some of his money. If uol, then it was a foolish love-match, and no doubt resulted as might have been expected.Brown's sou didn't turn out well. No. Some said Brown didn't lake the" right course with him. I don't think Brown did myself. Not that 1 approve of fur nishing a young lad ol twenty with plenty of money. By no means. But I con sider that Brown might have disciplined lum more thoroughly. Urown knew the the value of discipline. He knew the necessity of it. But he never trained that boy to business. Still, I presume the boy took after his mother, and had no turn for business. Pity. Great disappointment to Brown, 1 dare say. We all have our trials. So Brown is dead. Doesn't seem possible. A money-making man all his life. Hard to lose Brown. 1 shall miss him at. many times. Yes, unquestionably, Brown will be missed at dividend meetings at directors' meetings above all, at the bank. That old bank clerk will never see Brown again as he looks up from his ledger. He will miss him. To be sure, Brown never paid high salaries, ami allow no such nonsense as extra pay at the. cud of the year. Yes, indeed, the bank clerks will all miss him as a living embodiment of, high aspiration, those are the words, sorrowful day lor them. When I went home that night, I took the evening paper as usnah I had a great deal on my mind, ami went over the dispatches and money articles, in which you will readily understand I necessarily take 'an absorbing interest. Finally, as 1 was about to lay the paper aside, my eyes caugh the notice of Brown's death, and 1 remarked to my wife : My dear, Brown Good gracious! sho exclaimed, how you frightened mo. What were you going to say ? 1 believe, on my soul, she was asleep, as she says I always am, when I am not hurried in a newspaper. Mv dear, said I, Brown's dead. What ! that old miser dead ? said my very pert daughter Jane, who always will speak just what she thinks, against all rules of tact and politeness. Brown was not a miser, said I, far from it. Next door to it, said she. Brown was a lib . If Brown was not a liberal man, he was a financially sound man, said 1 impressively, and "of very great weight in the community. I wonder how much weight his finan cial soundness will give him iu the next world ? said she. As 1 considered it folly to discuss such questions with a mere child, I mado no reply. But I told my wife she must bo sure to remind mo, without fail, to go to lirown 8 liincrat on the day alter to morrow. 1 knew she positively would, because she has never once failed to remind nic of anything in forty years. Sho did remind me, and I went. Not a very large crowd there. But very heavy financially. 1 made an estimate within ten minutes. There were over nineteen millions represented at Brown's funeral, besides what Brown represented. Everything proper for the funeral. No unnecessary display, but no sparing of money. Behtting a bank president and sound financier. The coffin was elegant; rich as could be bought for money.- It was almost entirely covered with llowers; the handles and plate were of solid silver The latter bore tho simple inscription: JOHN 11KOWN, Capitalist, Died October 13, 1873, Aged 73. It was all just as Brown would have wished i!. Iu fact, he had left minute directions as to the details of his funeral and interment, an it was soothing to think that he. had the means abundantly to gratify his last wishes. All so solemn ami appropriate. The exorsiscs were short. As I was one of the bearers I was obliged to go to the cemetery, .although by doing so 1 had to lose several operations in which I might have made money that afternoon. Some quiet excitement was caused, just as we were leaving the house, liy a whisper ol.a bank failure that morning. As we could not aut hent icate the rumor then, how ever, we let it pass for t he present. So Brown was committed to the dust. Ash es to ashes. It seemed like burying money. But we must all die. So said the parson as he bill toned up his e.oat and pre pared to slop into his carriage to ride home to dinner. Well, lirown is dead and gone, it don seem possible ! John Gki.m.stonk. An exchange f-avs : "Mark Twain doesn't owe much of his wealth to his pen, but. he was wise enough to marry a girl whose father owned a coal mine and gas stock, ami died ami left it all to her c- a a enr a a timou (Jieicfji'rtpij. ESTAlU.ISIIKl) IN 1K39. Oi.n Skuiks- Vor.. xxxv. Pu'olishod Every Priday by Tolm 113. "Williams. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: One copy one year, it) iKfrmice,. . . . ff2 00 (ft?-Single copies in wrappers, ready for mailing, Five cents each. ADOl.rill S W. IIHtlHS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, IT'LTOX, MISSOURI. Bfiy Oi-'KICK IN Coukt llousn. 34-tf. J. W. Booth. J. N. Booth. T. Booth. J. W. BOOTH & SONS, oh acco and General Produce Commission VTerclia.inti Kos. IOO & 4 3 N. Second St., ST. I.OUIS, June 12, 174. MISSOURI. 31-3IH.1 THOMAS A. HOWARD, M. I)., Physician and Surgeon, FI I.TOX, MISSOURI. OFFKBS his professional services to the citizens of Fulton and vicinity. OllieeoverPr. Tucker's Drug store. Jan. 2, 1S74, fly.) 1a. W. McKIISNEY, ATTORNE Y-A T-Li A W, FIXTOX, MISSOURI, PRACTICES in the Courts of Callaway and adjoining counties. Ofkick (For the present) in the Tkle-orai'H lYinting House. January 10, 1S74. (2C-lf.) Ir . O - IVI. T-t o o t o s , DENTIST, (Successor to Dr. J. W. Veaeh.) IS now fully prepared to perform all Dental operations in the best, an J most scientific manner. All work warranted. Ofi'icv. Over old Bank, Court street, Fulton, Mo. January 2, 1S71. 7-1 y KOBERT McPHEETERS, CONCORD, MO. "T E K DS, M O U It J A ( i ES, fcc., prepared on 'reasonable terms. January 2, 187-1. 17tf JNO. .A.. FLOOD, ATTORNEY AT LAW, FULTON, MO. Wl LTj pract ice In Callaway and adjoining counties. Officii; In the Court House. January 2, 1S74. S-ly-1 r. I?. BILIHY, Attorney at Law, FULTON,MISSOURI. "TTTITJi pract ice in the Courts of Callaway and adjoining counties. January 2, 1874. I.s-iy.1 1Z. .T. XA.TTETfcfcSON', BAKER -AND- Confectioner Corner Asylum and Nichols street, lIJlVrOJN, MISSOURI. O: II ETUUNINO thanks for past favors and respectfully request a continuance of the same, i desire to remind my friends and the puhliK generally that I am still on hand with a large and well selected stock of Confections, Also, always on hand, FrosH Ereaci, And a good assortment of Orders Tor Weddings and Parlies So licited. March 7, 1S73. (lC-tf.) Fall and Winter STOCK Ol? Mrs. B. Williams, FULTON, MO., KKKl'3 ON 1IANI A FINK STOCK OF HATS, BOraETETS., lf'fi.tli'Oi''fS iridvwei's. Ribbons, Laces, Silks, VELVETS, CHIGNONS, PLATS, SWITCHES, And everything usually kept in a M Qui Millinery M. 1M1SCELT.ANEOUS. JOHN T.BROWN, &KAI.EK IX Fresli Drap, ffieflicines aui Chemicals, Fancy and Toilet Articles, Sponges, Brushes, Perfumery, &c, FULTON, MO. PHYSICIANS' I'itESCUIl'TIONS Carefully compounded. Sept. IS, 1874. 45 ly. SOMETHING NEW! A NO HEW A. NAERZ WOULD announce to the citizens of Fulton and vicinity, that they have just opened a TVIEAr1 HHOP, on Columbia street, at the old" Pearl saloon, where they will keep the best quality of fresh meals, and will sell low for cash. Oive us a call. A. A. MAE HZ. - .bine 2, 1874. 33-tf. IVETfcTIIV HOUSE, MEXICO, MISSOURI, JAMES W. BROWN, Proprietor. flllUS house is thoroughly refitted and JL furnished. Accommodations equal to any house iu Mexico. Tins traveling public is respectfully invited to give this house a trial before going elsewhere. Jan. 10, 1874. 10-3m. $eiir git; tiller Y:;:, JAMES AS HZ, (Successor to Fisher & Ashe,) DKALER IX Mer, Lath, Shingles, Booh, Sash and Blinds Will fill orders promptly, at lowest possible rates. Lumber loaded on ears free of charge. April 17, 1S74. (33-tf.) MARBLE WORKS. OLD RELIABLE. THIC undersigned would respectfully call the attention of the public and especially of those whose duty it becomes to decorate the last resting place of friends with suitable Grave Stones, that he is always prepared, at his old stand on Asylum street, to execute any work in this "line, either of American or Foreign Marble of the best grades and at prices that defy competition. My motto: No Satisfaction Xo Pay I Call and see. CHRISTIAN F1SCI1KK. March 20, 1874. 19-tf.J C0 TO Godfrey's Gallery IIEUE PHOTOGRAPHS are made equal to any in North Missouri, and the most beautiful PORCLAIN PICTURES. OK MS As cheap and good as they can be had anywhere. A few copies of ?H0TWH!C mimi CERTIFICATES, . Still on hand. Special pains tahen with Children, and in Copying. (aUiCRY-Over Herdon & Harris' Drug Store. March 31, 1S71. 20-tf.l CALLAWAY COUNTY Savings Bank, PULTON, MO. EDWIN CURD, IV rwt BK?WT. President. .Cashier. DIRECTORS : D. M. TUCKER, JNO. A. ITOCKADAY, P. 15. NESI5IT, V. T. SXELL, EDWIN CUKD. "TTriTX do a General Banking and Ex- v cnanjre imsmcss. joucctions anu ue-tiiittanc.es Promptly Made. .laimary z, isi-i. IS-tS.t BLACK SMITH ING, AND HORSE SHOEING. T" AM NOW prepared to do all JL kinds of ltlacksmithing in the neatest, most substantial and ex peditious manner. . . AI,L, WORK. WARRANTED. IIOKSE-9HOEING $l.SO 1 will pay especial attention to H 0 R'S E SHOEING, And Hatter myself that I can give entire satisfaction to all who favor me wtth their patronage. 1 employ only first class workmen and superintend all work done at my establishment. Shop on Nichols street, just behind TKi.KGn.i'H olllco. A. SLOAN. Oct. 13, 1871. 48-tf.j New Blooxnfield DRUG STORE. rTIIIIS establishment is now in receipt of a JL full line of all articles kept in first class Drug stores, such as PURE DRUGS, Medicines and Chemicals, Perfumery, Toilet Articles, Stationery, Oils, Paints and Dye Stuffs, Lamps and Coal Oil and Patent IVZediolnes ! CHOICE CIGAES AND TOBACCO! THE 1JEST OF Whiskys, Imk d fa, Kept on hand, strictly for Medical Purposes. HI'rcD-eriptiniis Carefully Com-louiiilvl.u9SJ. S. UAH Ell M. I. Dee. 5, 1873. (4-3m.) HOLT'S SUMMIT. TO 0URPATR0NS. GENTI.KM KN -Onr loss by tho lata dis-" aster by lire makes ft. necessary that we call on all' who are indebted to our linn, to set llit up as soon as possible, as we are iu need of all the means tluitare due us, and more particularly so, since our loss is entire. Our insurance hud runout and had not been renewed. f knti.kmkn, accept our thanks for your past patronage and remember us, in this, our threat need. Yours, respeetftilly, llOLT&t'O. August 11,1871. 40-tf. MISCELLANEOUS t& MOTICE.SSSr ALL KINDS of Property that was taken or destroyed during the war by Federal or State troops, that lias not hcn paid for. and where proof can be furnished to sustajf such losses, may be ablu to recover for such property, by applying to RICKEY, Claim Agent. Ofpicr With Dr. Howard. April 3, 1874. 21-tf.l LIFE INSURANCE it. ii. fvi.ijl.oti: "T"S authorize.! to take applications for PoN JL ieies iu the froteetlon l.lte Insurance 1 ife Insurance Co. J. K. RICKEY, District Agent ct Agenl 21-tf April U, 1S74. SALOON OPEN ! MAYFIELD& WENGER HAVE opened a Saloon at Weiiger's old stand, on Columbia street, llrst house west of Fred Cohii's, where tliey are prepared to furnish the H of Lips d Cigars, to their old customers, and as many new ones as may please to call, and by proper treatment, to give satisfaction to all. May 2D, 1S74. (29-tf.) INSURANCE AGENCY. IF1. S. IPOSTOlSr REPRESENTS THE Connecticut Mai Life Insurance Ccmpioy of Sirtford, Conn, Assets Jnii. 1, '73, $34, 3C,1 11.13. FIRE COMPANIES. CONTINENTAL INS. CO. OF N. YORK; Assets, - $1,-28 1,351, Ml. PH(ENIX OF HARTFORD. Assets, Jan. 1, 73, $l,5S3,t;46.55 AMERICAN CENTRAL INS. CO., OF ST. LOUIS, M0. Assets -$544,943.68. ST. JOSEPH FIRE AND MARINE INS. CO. OF ST. JOSEPH, M0. Assets $44,157.2. These Companies are all A No. 1. Tho rates are fair, and those desiring insurance should call on the undersigned at once. Jj. 8. POSTON". August 8, 1873. Southern Savings Bask, FUL.TON, MISSOURI. CAPITAL STOCK $50,000, WitU Power to Increase Same to $250,000. F. G. NICIIOLS WM. Li. WILEELER,... Prksident. .Cashier. WIT,!. Buy aivl Sell Exchange on St. Louis and Eastern Cities; also, Oold Silver. County and City Warrants and Uucur-rent Money. t&- Accommodation-; Afforded, Deposits Received and Collections Made Promptly, and Remitted at Currpnt Rates on -Exchange. Hoard of Dirkctors. F. O. N ichols, 1. "W.-Boulware, Win. L. Wheeler, It. W.Turemau and Wm. II. Bailey. May 30. 1873. 25 Iy.1 PIiAIN TAT.TT f Read and remember that from and after this day, May 1st. 1874, 1 will 11 strictly to cash, and -prompt paying customers only. And what I mean by this is that all . bills must be settled on the first day of each month ; promptly. 1 do not propose to sell Meats to Torn, Dick and Harry, on credit, and wait until they get ready to pay for it. This is played out. It is cash at the counter, if you cannot pay weekly, or in 30 days. 1 mean what I say. With many thanks for past favors, I solicit a continuance of your patronage, hoping that by honorable dealing, and close attention to business, I may make it to your advantage to deal with me iu the future, on the cash principle. K. KELLER. May 22, 1874. 28-301.' CITY Boot and Shoe Store ! , LOOK OUT FOR BARGAINS AND OO TO WILLIAMSON'S, - i Southwest Corner Publia Square, , Fulton, Missouri. ALL LOW FOR CASH J Gents' Calf Sewed Boots, Gents' Calf Pegged Boots, Gents' Kip Pegged Boofs, Boys' Calf Pegged Boofs, . Youths' Calf and Kip Boots. And the Best Assortment of MEN'S ANDJOYS' SHOES. Ladies' Fine French Kid Shoes, (frou and side lace ;) Missus French Kid Shoes, (front and sido laco.) Also tho most completo assortment o! Childrens' Wear in Callaway county. MANUFACTDEED WEAR. lie is prepared to manufacture all kinds of MEN'S WEAR in tho best manner of tho best material and a perfect fit. NO FIT, NO PAY. CALL ON .A. "Williamson, Southwest Corner Public Square October 10, 1873. (40-tf.)

r 1 ITTIT P1 if "j I 5 r u ft VOL. XXIX. FULTON, CALLAWAY COUNTY .MISSOURI. OCTOBER :iO, 1874. NO. 51 T71 pin IS ai K: to l r jt initoii lflcfiaplj. - .THOMAS YARN. lie was ft i'ailuro, an innocent, colorless fni hue, holding his place in t lie energetic town of Mossbrook rather becauso lio was 'too.: amorphous to bo kicked out 1 halt from any power of his own to keep in. lJvhonias Yarn had never made a living, bill had hung, a barnacle on somebody; else's i living all bin life. He was ngly'aiul dirty, anil poor anil lazy, yet these- terms seem too strong: for so nebulous a creature. The colors in which his portrait should be painted are what the French taints (hiiradcit, gnu 11 y brown, pale olive greens, mixed and tardy grays; no black, no white, no red; all shadow, dead lights, a poor, forlorn, faded picture, which no gallery coveted. Jlo was a sort of connecting link between -thu earthworm and man, suggest ing bet h ext rcmes. Yet the creature was kindly, and had his own little corner of wit and humor; once in about ten years ho said a good thing, lie bad never harmed anything, not even n fly; in fai t, he and the Hies were rather intimate, ami had acquired a right of possessorsldp from long occupancy of a dirty ciirtainless tavern window, which was the height from which Thomas Yarn surveyed life as it went on in Mossbrook. He was in some remote way supposed to be a gentleman, perhaps because ho never "xid anything, perhaps for a better reason. At any rate, he was tolerated in some of the best front parlors when on centennials, and on such infrequently-occurring occasions Jic put on a clean shirt and madu a call. Thomas Yam was not dirty for the same reason that it is said to have governed a celebrated English scholar, "because it rhymed witli Goethe;' no, poor Thomas was not even literary, that next to nothingness in good,hard-working New Ehghwyl. His habits grew out of a slovenly soul; the cold waters of energy and ambition bad never cascaded dcTwii Thomas Yarn's back. He was Blink low in the slums of laziness and inertia. Who knows what had deprived Thomas, Yarn, of. his birthright of success? . Who knows what heart-aches had -paralyzed his energies? Who knows any of tho great secrets of Nature"' why one brain works ami another will not? And why otic man sits still while another man runs? Oim thing Thomas ,1 arn always possessed, and that 'was; the villago news. The tavern-window, in spite of the Hies, wiis a good Held of observation, lie went round with the returns of elections, with the deaths and marriages, and the latest, well-authenticatod scandal. Never malignant., never prone to sec evil, Thomas still told what ho heard an invaluable local newspaper. He would put his sad figure in i penitently at the side-door, as if to say that, the news he brought was his onlv excuse for being. Thei-b .wore, rumors of his once being seen driving horse, but this was not well authenticated. . It gave too much iVnergy and decision to I ho picture, and was rejected bv most as impiobablo; but one great, grand, important thing he had done, one evUMtilluiiiinated his existence, and he never "Was tired talking of it. He bad once been married, and he could not tt forget t 'vt. of Mint forget tho pride, pomp and circurnsfauce, hat occasion. ossiblv at that moment ho might have C I'osm ""Jiecu cl leaner and more prosperous than at any subsequent one, else why did that very pretty, girl, with her long, black hair always remembered in the villago admiringly why had she soover-estimated -Ji"''-01 '.powers of endurance as to marrvL'tfhv"afi Yarn? Marry him she did, niuL' ii situ rally .died in two years, to be over after the p-ri1n"at beauty and saint of his lite. He never could sufficiently praiso her hair. IIo placed it among the constellations like Berenice's, and wore one long trcw, folded in China paper, next his heart. Tho way ho worshipped j his "Marv ill heaven'' affirmed Thomas Yarn's claim to the the name of gentle-iuai'r,Hflmt been in business when he married, but ho failed immediately, and that continued to be his business forever afterl'ITlic tvenf swallowed him up, aiiditwa8'on:it9 worm-eaten porch that he ih-sl'ietirticd'thnt he was remembered in Governor Hammond's will. Some one else knew .that' piece of news before he did. 1 , Governor 'Hammond was a rich and prominent citizen, who had been terribly stricken.- In tho midst of his prosperity, by the death of his only Ron, a young man but a lew years married, who had left one young daughter. It was a proud old name, and Governor Hammond did not like to have it die out. lint fate was stronger than he. He left bis fine 'property to this little girl, something itfclh same disappointed frame of mind as Dombcy, and he added a singular codicil. It was to charge his executors to pav a small annuity to Thomas 'arii,,iind" to give him the charge of his library,' which was large and in great disorder, aud which needed attention and repair. - r This library', had come from two lawyers, ouo gentlcmau and one clergyman ancestor, as Governor Hammond was fond of explaining his various forbears, and, had been generally tumbled in by tho Govci'ii6r, no great reader, Into an unoccupied room, which was not uusuit-ed to it, being in a wing of the house in which' Emily',' tho child-hcircss, lived with her ount Margaret ami the old servants. The little unconscious owner of all this .'rambling property was a healthy, hearty, robust little girl, with an early propensity tor talcs of fancy, and legitimately for novel readings blie spent her Saturday afternoons, and sonic part of tho next f day, in her library, sitting on the top step of a ladder reading "The Cottages! of, (lleiibuiuie, "A Simple Story," or ".tJuuldetis of Warsaw." There, wrapped ili the delicious mantle of romance, would fchc sit lor hours, while Thoiotrs Ytirni would 'look up from hi paste-pots as ;k dreamy mole might contemplate a"bnttcrily. ' He and she were great friend; not having arrived at tho critical age etif-i did not notice his soiled habits as Aunt Margaret did, but willingly put her soft, w hile hand in his, and was led to Si-try's grave, listening with much gravity to the account of that famous wedding, and looking with sweet- Iv-sorrowfnl eyes at tho long tress of bKati'tifur nSr. It was a pari of Saturday afternoon to Emily; a part of "Thaddeusof Warsaw;" a part off, tl'atgqnicn prime which luniiy wai nass'ing through; anil, as ho was in- duh'cut. ami let her press wild-Hewers in some of tht! bfd theological works, Emily thought, ho was a model librarian.. ' Kmilv found the library rather over stocked with the sermons and grave folios of her clergyman ancestor, ralher too sparfelK' fhrniklied with tho "Thaddous of Warsaw'' school of literature. She bad gone tlirough Scott, and gentle Miss Austin, and Miss Edgeworth, and dull old Mrs. Sherwood, whoso story of "Rich in the IviUhen and roor in tho 1 arlor, is chiefly valuable for its recipe for mak- ing goosoborry-l arts. ' Sim had wept, over that -redeeming work nt "Little Henry and his Hearer:" she had shuddered over "The ltufllan Itoy;" and she had got to l'ope. .Then she began to sigh for fresh Holds and pastures new. Cooper she bad tried and could not; and, as lor the theo logical works, what wcro they good for but to tiress (lowers in.' O, old .dry doctors! did not your pul- sos beat as this image ot spring and hope and joy threw open your musty pages oinl lai.l llio freKhly-galhcred flowers in i-nni1 heavy grasp? Were these tho only llowcrs you had helped "to' press down mid ill" IJIlV Who will road those accumulated words of wisdom old sermons, thoolog tcul trrtktisos rei-ordsol iindymgdiillnesr Why doo the greatest of subjects load to such poor writing: I wish thero wore some novels, said Emily, one day, from the top of the step-ladder.Novels a'n't good for young people, said Thomas Yarn. Hut I like them I like a book that is very beautiful in the beginning, and very sad in the middle, and very liiagniticent at the end! said Emily, who did not want for words. Well, I guess you'd better not read so many of 'em. That isn't at all like life, said poor -Thomas, remembering the tavern window. Resides your Aunt Margaret says you walk in your sleep, and havo bad dreams, and I guess you'd better go oft and get some more wild-flowers. So Emily would dance otr to the woods, and Thomas looked up some more novels for her, and finding a good, old-fashioned story; would leave it accidentally on the top of the step-ladder, sufficiently rewarded if ho saw her flush of pleasure as she discovered it. Thero were no poisonous plants in this Forest of Ardennes all was tho good, wholesome pasturago of which Charles Lamb speaks; and the young maiden who was thus set free was as protected as tho lady in "Coinus," or that other delicious creature of whom great English Shakspearo says: "A thousand liveried angels lackey her." Thomas Yarn, in spite of his inability to make a living, was so good a creature that his virtue shone througlHiis bedraggled exterior, as the sun himself 6honc through that taveru-window through which lie saw the distant world. Miss Margaret, rectangular spinster that sho was, permitted him the guardianship of her niece without fear nay, she cvou admitted him to tho icy, frigid .one of virtue which surrounded herself. He sat on the edge of his chair iu her presence when he told her the scraps of news sho so dearly loved to hear. Oh! on one of these occasions, what a piece of news she told him! Y'ou may shut up the library, Mr. Yarn, I am going to lake Emily oft' to school. The trustees will allow you. your accustomed stipend (Miss Margaret loved to uso a new and grandiloquent phrase as well as another), and your work can be resumed in tho spring; now 1 prefer to have the library shut. Good evening! And sho swept out. without a loot;; besides, who had ever flattered him, or softened the asperities of Fate to this creature? Poor Thomas! From him that hath nothing, shall be taken even that he hath! , lie took out tho piece of folded China paper, and looked long at the tress of black hair, lie wondered, knowing how low down ho was, that he could be so exquisitely miserable. There is a great talent iu human nature for pain and suffering and dull grief. That side of our nature seems to bo singularly gifted. Wo have no such unlimited powers in tho way of joy and gladness. After the sixteenth year of existence is passed, it seems doubtful if any one can feel rapturously happy for a very long tunc say three minutes". But the power of suflor-i ing constantly grows with our growth, and strengthens with our strength. No one ever complained that ho had not talent enough lor this sort of thing. Even Thomas Yarn, who had seemed to have talent for nothing else, felt within himself the comprehension of an intellectual colossus for Buttering. . . It is a hard thing to take out of a poor life tho friendship, the unquestioning love of a child. 11c saw Emily furtively during those years when she danced over that mysterous land that borderland of girlhood and womanhood but. when she came home from boarding-school, and looked at Thomas Yarn with new eyes he who had not grown cleaner, or younger, or more agreeable ho felt that ho had lost his little friend. She reinstated him in tho library ; but she came there seldom herself; she had a new book to read her own romanco was being written ; lovers were coming in the flesh, instead of on the yellow pages of her old books so Thomas ana .Memory uustcu . aione. One day Thomas took down a volume of Scott's "Commentaries," iu which he saw a moth creeping, and, as he did so, a wild-llowcr fell out one of those which had not been elevated to tho dignity of Emilv's herbarium. It was a heavy old book with a parchment coyer, and, as lie. dusted and shook it, Thomas l a in shook out his fate a tolded paper fell to the ground with bits of fern, a pressed vio let, lady'8-shppor, ana several lrmgcd polygalas. ... , .. It was-a will, no Knew me nana writ ing well, for in his struggle for cxistauco lie hail been a copyist, and had often met the still, stately otci-iasuioncu, copper plate hand of Governor Hammond. He read on through tne lormai purases aim legal forms ho read on as a man docs in a dream, and he never knew how long it took him to find out what was written on that piece of paper. He might have fainted away n so, ho came .to ail by himself. It was a will, leaving all his property to his natural son, Ihomas Yarn. It was witnessed by ueuorau Doolittlo (misnamed woman !), then and now cook to tho establishment, and by old Deacon Ilamscy, who had been gathered to his father. Thomas Yarn remembered the date of the will which had given all the property to Emily, yes, this was written a year alter, it was not recorded, that ho knew well, but he thought Deborah would remember sittuinir it. He went through all these mental operations with hall his mind, tho other halt was paralyzed with surprise. lie was looking at it with biearcu eyes when he heard a fresh voice singing in the hall.. Ho had just time to put the paper in perhaps the poorest old .pocket in the world, when Emily opened the door. Thomas Yarn was surrounded with faded wild-flowers. Ho even had a piece of fern in his hand, endeavoring to hold it as if it were a thing to which ho was accustomed. . ' " : " ' -''-' How Emily laughed as she saw him! - So vnu have found sonic of our old flowers.1 How yellow they arc poor thiuiis! Look at that violet, 'lliey are like nconle who have bad sickness and trouble. I wonder n 1 snail ever iook like one of those! . . Yes they are vellow, said hoinas fee bly, do you remember when you put them here ( I remember I Why not ; it might have been tho summer after 1 had the measles, or tho summer before I went to school ; 1 don t remember ! Thos. Yarn took his wav home that day through the kitchen. It was not the first time, for Deborah was very apt to way lav'him with the proll'er of a cup of tea, or some of her nice dishes, always doing it with respect, for she thought, with the rest' of Mossbrook, that Ihomas was poor gentleman ; and he, not a person to be invited to dinner, would nausc fur tively, and at Deborah's neat table snatch a cup of tea or rich doughnut, grateful variety to tavern fair ! So. when he appeared down tho stairs Deborah bustled round, and put a plate and knife and fork on the side-table. No, "said Thomas Yarn, nothing to eat Why! whatsomevcr has happened to von. Mr. Yarn? said Deborah. You look as white as a sheet ! Deborah, do vou remember witnessing a paper for. Governor Hammond in his last illness ? Well, yes, I guess I do, Mr. Yarn. Tho Governor was terrible queer in his last sickness." Ho wandered round, and went to the library, and woiildn' stay in bed, and wrote things. Yes, me and Deacon Itainsey see him sign something 1 suppose it. was his will, giving ovcrthing to Miss Emily. Ho was awful troubled, tho Governor was. After his son died l-.e got queer, and then after Miss Hammond died, he got queerer. 1 expect the Governor had been rather hard on the poor when he was inaking.his fortune. Deborah, put on your spectacles, aud see if this is your signature ? Deborah produced some very large glasses, and proceeded to lit them with dilheulty on a very small nose. Well, yes, l wrote that. 1 never was good with my pen ;' and I was kind of flustered when the Governor he called me, and deacon Ifamsey he was coughin' awful at tho time; he died, poor man, before tho Governor did ; and then 1 hail my dinner on, aud the soup was a-buriiin.Thomas Yarn was half up the street before Deborah had finished, and had reached the register's ollicc. Yes, Emily's will was recorded ; this was not, but this was written a year after the other. Then the poor soul traveled back on his recoiled ions, aud he saw, here aud there, the figure of that stately man, who had been his father; ho recognized, hero and there, that he must have secretly helped him from time to time; ho remembered, too, that he had not helped him when help might have saved Mary, and his soul swelled with bitterness, lint, in the hours that death waited for the Governor, ho had .paid this tardy debt to conscience. He had laid the paper in tho old book, he had scut Thomas Yarn to the library, and ho had left the rest to chance. Miserable vulgar fraction of conscience-money ! Miserable playing with justice! Governor Hammond, like many a dignified gentleman, uncovered his real character in his will, aud showed the poor and mean thing which a line appearance had draped and ornamented. Thomas Yarn went to Marys grave and considered. Ho saw from that humble spot Governor Hammond's tall Corinthian column gleam through the trees. Ho thought of the change it would make in the village treatment if he announced the fact. Tho tavern-window would cease to bo his post of observation ; he would sit of an evening on that broad piazza where Miss Margaret and Emily received their guests ; it would bo his own l.-.. . -. Ho would "become a man of fortune, a power in tho State. He looked down at his garments. It even occurred to him that he. should have a new suit of clothes; but, as these airy visions floated before him, he looked again iu the grass at the stone, and read : - "MABY, WIFE TO THOMAS YAltN, DIKD SKl'TEMBER 23, 1835, AK122." and he decided that he did not want fortune, fame, consequence enough to take it away from Emily, his child-friend. She, next to Mary, was the thing dear to Thomas Yarn. Often ho determined to burn the will, but he did not.. He-even bought a piece of oil-silk, and carefully folded it around tho paper before returning it to his ragged pocket. Sometimes, when ho was particularly forlorn, ho would take it out and read it, and become a rich man for a few hours ; then Emily's laugh woulp resound through the house, or lie woujd sec her, gay and triumphant, driving oft to picnics and to sleigh-rides, the successful young heiress and belle of Mossbrook, and ho would fold it away. Thomas Yarn watched with a jealous eye the men who approached Emily, and he saw to his sorrow that she began to blush and look down when Horace Fra-zicr came near her. It began to bo village talk that there was to be an engagement.Now, Horace Frazier had conic to Mossbrook to study law ; he was not of the town. Perhaps he brought some foreign graces with him ; he was handsome, dressed well, and had fascinating manners. Uut the tavern, in this instance, had become an important post of observation, and Thomas Yarn knew of nights passed in gambling, of drunken bouts, of the grime and degradation of a dissolute life. Yet what could he say or do i What headway make against this young and clever man ? liefore he had resolved on his course of action, Emily had conic into the library, and had announced her engagement . to him. ' ' O, Miss Emilv! don't! IIo isn't worthy of you ! He is a gambler, a drunkard, and worse ! Don't lovo such man ; don t marry him, I beg of you I burst from poor Thomas Yarn's lips. To describe Emily's indignation would be impossible. The sun iu the heavens was not more illustrious than Horace Frazier in her eyes. To attact him aud to her I' She swept out of tho library, after a vigorous denunciation, aud Aunt Margin et swept iu. It had been a part of Horace a razicr's policy (gracetui good- for-nothing) to win the older woman first, and she had but to hear the dread- lul news ot the attack to rush to the battlements and mow down Thomas Y'arn with a well-directed volley. I hear that you dare, Mr. Yarn, to in sult my niece, and to assail the character of her intended husband you, Mr. Yarn! Who aro you ( WIiv, my relative, Gov ernor Hammond descended so far as to mention you in his will, I never could un derstand. Y'ou, slothful, dirty, poor, mean, iiisignitieanl you dare to speak of gentleman a well-dressed gentleman like Mr. Frazier? Leave this house, Mr. Yarn (you never ought to have been allowed to conic into it), and never let these eyes behold you again ! Miss Margaret held out a linn lorcimger as she spoke, like a third-rale Lady Mac beth. Ihomas 1 am rose slowly and walked out; yet, as he passed her, he fired one Parcnthiau arrow. I will save Emily vet, said he. Go, base creature! said Miss Margaret furiously. When Mr. Frazier came to tea that eve ning both ladies received him with great cr tenderness than ever, ins waisicoai was very perfect ; his necktie aud con vcrsalion delightful ; ho was a handsome fellow, and iu love. ; They did not tell him how cruellv ho had been slandered. Thomas Yarn watched him for a few weeks, hoping that love might make a better man of him; but no, it did not. Tho play went on; the drinking-bouts continued; even Emily began to see some signs which troubled her, but, womanlike, she only loved him bettor. That he made her heart tremble and ache, was part of the agitation ol tlxj period. Then Thomas Yarn took a determination. He went to Judge Sutherland's of- lice, and had a private consultation with that eminent jurist ; ami the next night, as Horace D razier came up the tavern-steps, fresh from his courting and fresh from Emily's sweet presence, on his way to the card-room, Thomas Yarn stopped him. Mr. Frazier, Judge Sutherland desires to see you in No. 17, if you please. ( Frazier sullenly turned towards the room, lie was a student in the judge's ollice, and expected he knew not what iu the shape of a reprimand. He was surprised and offended when Yarn entered the room and locked the door. Judge Sutherland's dignitied presence, however, silenced him, and he seated himself awaiting the revelation. Mr. Frazier, we are about to make a confidence to you, and, as a man of honor, I ask you to give me your promise that vou will not reveal it." Certainly, sir, 1 give you my word. It deeply concerns you, a.s 1 understand that you arc to marry Miss Hammond; it deeply concerns me, as I am one of tho trustees of her supposed estate; it deeply concerns Mr. Yarn, as he is the real owner of that estate. Here is a will, which vou shall read ; it is a perfectly legal doc ument, although not registered. Ono of the witnesses to the signature is still living. Ot tho contents of the will I am not ignorant, having been consulted as to its form. 1 have also known for many years, as a professional secret, that Mr. Yarn was a natural sou of Gov. Hammond', but 1 hail supposed Unit my old friend had abandoned his project of making this will. Here it is, and in my opinion it will stand. Horace Frazier read the paper with attention. It was ruin to him, aud he looked it; but he said nothing. Once he turned and gave Thomas Yarn a searching, contemptuous, and almost amused look. You are a good-looking fellow to turn a young lady out of her property! said he coarsely. Thomas Yarn did not answer. Judge Sutherland did. No abuse Mr. Frazier. Mr. Yarn is treating you most honorably. He is not ready to make this will public just yet, but he wishes you to know of it in order that vou may not be disappointed in regard to your future wife's property. If you love her well enough to marry her, a penniless girl such as she Is, that of course, is a matter into which I shall not enter. Put it is our duty to let you know that Mr. Yarn will, in the event of your marriage produce this will, and proceed to claim his property and the judge pushed up his glasses. Horace Frazier was stunned, as well he might be. Judge Sutherland was a dry, convincing sort of terrible man; what he said must be true. Do you think. Judge Sutherland, that Mr. Yarn has any chance of success? It may be enough to say to you that I have advised him to try, said tho judge drvlv. Yes, that was quite enough for Horace Frazier. Ho loved Emilv. iu his selfish way, for herself; but he was not the man to do a generous deed, and lake her with out a penny. Emily an heiress was quite another thing from Emily penniless. Thomas Yarn had not mistaken his man. He left town verv shortly after, and wrote a few very love-like letters. Then he went through the usual process of pretended jealousy, coldness and neglect ; then writing her that, as he knew lie was not worthy of her, ho must beg that their engagement might come to an end. He had told the truth lor once. He was not worthy of her. But it took Emily some time to sec that love's young dream can have an end. Sho went through the usual delusions ; thought he still loved her, and tliat'somc enemy had done this thing. The leaf of music which fluttered oil' the piano in the evening breeze brought back the hour when he had gracefully stooped to pick it up for her; the flowers about tho piazza still breathed ot him : the west wind brought her his whispered vows; the moonlight seemed but to east shadows which might be his. It was hard to ac cept life without him. Emily had never met pain before ; it came with its usual intensity to the voting and strong. She sought to escape it, to believe in him, to torgive him ; and sho would have done so to the day of her death hail not a newspaper fallen into her hand with the news of his marriage yes, so soon, too ! Ah. Horace, you might have waited ! Trembling old Thomas looked on the surgical operation which ho had perform ed ; sadlv he watched the pale cli&ok and the dejected attitude as she sal, once again his silent companion, in the old library. He would have given all the for-ture that he had not had, twice over, to hear her laugh ; but it was too late. Could he have foreseen this, ho would not have frightened Horace Frazier away. Hut, before a year had passed, thchcaltliy and prosperous young girl began to re cover lrom her heart-break. The same temperament which had induced her to throw "Thaddeusof Warsaw" half across tho room, in her excitement at itsrapidly-changing tone of joy and despair, came to her rescue. The unmitigated worth-lessncss of her late lover's character began to come to her, although she did not know tho half. That knowledge sometimes is a good medicine for a heart dis eased. Aunt Margaret, too, was as vio lently tlesillusloitee as could bo desired ; but she never forgave Thomas Yarn, nor invited Inm to the edgo ot a chair for ever more, in her cool parlor. Before three vears had passed, Emily had replaced Horace Frazier by a far better man. Thomas Yarn had "kept his secret, and had seen his Emily as ho be lieved sate. lie crept to the library not often now, for his breath was getting short, his heart beat painfully; he was going down to that quiet resting-place, by the side of Mary,- for which ho had long prayed. Deborah began to go over to him, now, with comfortable soups and encouraging wines. Excellent Deborah, mis-named Doolittle! Happiness did not harden that good young heart, which had been such a dear thing to ihomas 1 aru. She never forgot him, but even on her marriage day sent over to sec of ho could not come to the wedding; but no, ho was too feeble. Deborah said lie would sit up at tho win dow and see her go by ! So ImiuIv, in her white robes, looked up at tho tavern-window as she drove to church, and kissed her white-gloved hand to the faded figure who watched her' as she passed. He had given Deborah a messago for her, to bo delivered when she came home from her wedding-journey. Tell her, ho said, that sho will lind my gift in the second volume of Scott's Commentaries, on the third shelf of the library.Just write that down, Mr. Yarn, if vou please ; my memory ain't what it was, said Deborah. Thomas Yarn wrote a neat hand. It was the only thing ho did neatly. He wroto it, and added, among the wild-flowers.And when tho beautiful, proud, happy young bride came home, she went with her hand in her husband's, to sec the prcftcnt. Aunt Margaret followed, saying, Poor Mr. Yarn has saved a little money, I don't doubt, and ho has given it all to you ! There were tears in Emily's bright eyes. She did not follow Aunt Margaret's meaning. She was thinking of his lonely lot, and of her own dear happiness. She opened the book, and there, with some faded llowers, lay the folded paper. She and Miss Maegarct read it together. They did not understand it until Emily's husband interpreted it for them. They had been living for three years in Thomas Yarn's house on siill'rance. Ho had been their host, knowing that at any moment he could turn them out if ho chose. He had not forgotten to add a will of his own, giving all the property once again to Juuily the property he had never touched. Where is ho ? said Emily, wildly ; let mo go to him ami tell him "what 1 think of him ! Oh, my dear, hain't you heard? said Aunt Margaret. He has been dead a fortnight ; he died on your wedding day. ABOUT CATTLE. The books tell us that flic first cattle imported into Ibis country were by Columbus iu 1-103. The first importation by tho Plymouth Company in 1021. A few years ago the Dutch brought them to New Hampshire. The average weight of these cattle was a little less than 300 pounds; In 1710 the average weight of beef cattle in London market was 370. In 1K03 it hail gone up to -l'.W pounds. In 1833 the average weight had increased to 73( pounds. Since then the average has steadily advanced until in Hie Brighton market of Boston, to-day, they average fiO percent, more than in Will. The largest beef reported in tho books was raised by Mr. John Sanders, of Massachusetts, weighing 3,i.00 pound live weight. Mr. William Smith, of Detroit. owned Hie steer, ''Groeloy," weighing 4,110 pounds gross ; net, 3,700. At the present time it is a common occurrence that a shipment of Illinois cattle average 1,('00 pounds. The increase in the weight ami consequent value, has been brought about by judicious selection and feeding JOHN BROWN-CAPITALIST. Brown was dead. 1 had heard it on my way down town in the morning. Of course it made a great impression on me when I heard it. To be sure, it went out of my head as soon as I had fairly cnter-cred upon the day's business, but at every breathing place, half a dozen times during the day, the. mournful thought again and again obtruded itself Brown dead ? Is it possible ? Brown and I had known each other for years. We did not meet regularly in business; that is, he had iu a measure retired from active business; at least he was no longer in f rattle, while 1 am still in the thick of the hubbub. Brown ruled as a capitalist. That is the way his name appeared in-public. It was so in the city directory, lie was so known in business circles, and as a director iu several large and proli table moneyed institutions. But he always put iu a full day at the bank and the dillerentofliees where his pecuniary interests were located. And so I had met Brown on the street, at. any time of day, for tweiiiy-tivo years. Not a sociable man. But always had a look of sociable recognition for another whose check was good for a large amount at the bank. Iu short, Brown was an excellent judge of men, and recognized worth at a glance. So I was always friendly with Brown, although we had L never exchanged twenty words outside ol the bank in all t lie twenty-live years. Brown was not a talking man. I had a most profound respect for Brown. Ho was worth more than $2,000,000; that I knew; and he was making more money every day than a hundred skilled workmen could earn by hard labor from sunrise to sunset. Brown was a self-made man. He was entitled to the sole credit for the position he occupied in the world, and he took it. Brown had made every cent ol his money, and he knew the value of it. He was an example of what a man is capable of becoming, and ho knew it. And what a pattern lie was to young nien of business, to be sure. Vacations summer trips, and such like nonsense he never indulged in. Bain or shiiie.dust or snow, ho was to be found at his post iu all weathers, day in and day out. Well, Brown is dead Not a domestic man. In fact, Brown's family were almost always out of town; and after he lost his wife, a good many years ago now, it was seldom that cither of his children were at home, I believe, until his daughter had linishcd school. Then she came and stayed awhile, but was married soon after. " I heard that Brown didn't like the match. I know that she aud her husband went oil' West, aud I remember of hearing of her death when it occurred. That must be some twelve years ago. Some ono told me that, she was very poorly oil when she died, but I dare say her husband was a beggarly fellow, with no business tact, and likely enough ho married Brown's daughter to get some of his money. If uol, then it was a foolish love-match, and no doubt resulted as might have been expected.Brown's sou didn't turn out well. No. Some said Brown didn't lake the" right course with him. I don't think Brown did myself. Not that 1 approve of fur nishing a young lad ol twenty with plenty of money. By no means. But I con sider that Brown might have disciplined lum more thoroughly. Urown knew the the value of discipline. He knew the necessity of it. But he never trained that boy to business. Still, I presume the boy took after his mother, and had no turn for business. Pity. Great disappointment to Brown, 1 dare say. We all have our trials. So Brown is dead. Doesn't seem possible. A money-making man all his life. Hard to lose Brown. 1 shall miss him at. many times. Yes, unquestionably, Brown will be missed at dividend meetings at directors' meetings above all, at the bank. That old bank clerk will never see Brown again as he looks up from his ledger. He will miss him. To be sure, Brown never paid high salaries, ami allow no such nonsense as extra pay at the. cud of the year. Yes, indeed, the bank clerks will all miss him as a living embodiment of, high aspiration, those are the words, sorrowful day lor them. When I went home that night, I took the evening paper as usnah I had a great deal on my mind, ami went over the dispatches and money articles, in which you will readily understand I necessarily take 'an absorbing interest. Finally, as 1 was about to lay the paper aside, my eyes caugh the notice of Brown's death, and 1 remarked to my wife : My dear, Brown Good gracious! sho exclaimed, how you frightened mo. What were you going to say ? 1 believe, on my soul, she was asleep, as she says I always am, when I am not hurried in a newspaper. Mv dear, said I, Brown's dead. What ! that old miser dead ? said my very pert daughter Jane, who always will speak just what she thinks, against all rules of tact and politeness. Brown was not a miser, said I, far from it. Next door to it, said she. Brown was a lib . If Brown was not a liberal man, he was a financially sound man, said 1 impressively, and "of very great weight in the community. I wonder how much weight his finan cial soundness will give him iu the next world ? said she. As 1 considered it folly to discuss such questions with a mere child, I mado no reply. But I told my wife she must bo sure to remind mo, without fail, to go to lirown 8 liincrat on the day alter to morrow. 1 knew she positively would, because she has never once failed to remind nic of anything in forty years. Sho did remind me, and I went. Not a very large crowd there. But very heavy financially. 1 made an estimate within ten minutes. There were over nineteen millions represented at Brown's funeral, besides what Brown represented. Everything proper for the funeral. No unnecessary display, but no sparing of money. Behtting a bank president and sound financier. The coffin was elegant; rich as could be bought for money.- It was almost entirely covered with llowers; the handles and plate were of solid silver The latter bore tho simple inscription: JOHN 11KOWN, Capitalist, Died October 13, 1873, Aged 73. It was all just as Brown would have wished i!. Iu fact, he had left minute directions as to the details of his funeral and interment, an it was soothing to think that he. had the means abundantly to gratify his last wishes. All so solemn ami appropriate. The exorsiscs were short. As I was one of the bearers I was obliged to go to the cemetery, .although by doing so 1 had to lose several operations in which I might have made money that afternoon. Some quiet excitement was caused, just as we were leaving the house, liy a whisper ol.a bank failure that morning. As we could not aut hent icate the rumor then, how ever, we let it pass for t he present. So Brown was committed to the dust. Ash es to ashes. It seemed like burying money. But we must all die. So said the parson as he bill toned up his e.oat and pre pared to slop into his carriage to ride home to dinner. Well, lirown is dead and gone, it don seem possible ! John Gki.m.stonk. An exchange f-avs : "Mark Twain doesn't owe much of his wealth to his pen, but. he was wise enough to marry a girl whose father owned a coal mine and gas stock, ami died ami left it all to her c- a a enr a a timou (Jieicfji'rtpij. ESTAlU.ISIIKl) IN 1K39. Oi.n Skuiks- Vor.. xxxv. Pu'olishod Every Priday by Tolm 113. "Williams. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: One copy one year, it) iKfrmice,. . . . ff2 00 (ft?-Single copies in wrappers, ready for mailing, Five cents each. ADOl.rill S W. IIHtlHS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, IT'LTOX, MISSOURI. Bfiy Oi-'KICK IN Coukt llousn. 34-tf. J. W. Booth. J. N. Booth. T. Booth. J. W. BOOTH & SONS, oh acco and General Produce Commission VTerclia.inti Kos. IOO & 4 3 N. Second St., ST. I.OUIS, June 12, 174. MISSOURI. 31-3IH.1 THOMAS A. HOWARD, M. I)., Physician and Surgeon, FI I.TOX, MISSOURI. OFFKBS his professional services to the citizens of Fulton and vicinity. OllieeoverPr. Tucker's Drug store. Jan. 2, 1S74, fly.) 1a. W. McKIISNEY, ATTORNE Y-A T-Li A W, FIXTOX, MISSOURI, PRACTICES in the Courts of Callaway and adjoining counties. Ofkick (For the present) in the Tkle-orai'H lYinting House. January 10, 1S74. (2C-lf.) Ir . O - IVI. T-t o o t o s , DENTIST, (Successor to Dr. J. W. Veaeh.) IS now fully prepared to perform all Dental operations in the best, an J most scientific manner. All work warranted. Ofi'icv. Over old Bank, Court street, Fulton, Mo. January 2, 1S71. 7-1 y KOBERT McPHEETERS, CONCORD, MO. "T E K DS, M O U It J A ( i ES, fcc., prepared on 'reasonable terms. January 2, 187-1. 17tf JNO. .A.. FLOOD, ATTORNEY AT LAW, FULTON, MO. Wl LTj pract ice In Callaway and adjoining counties. Officii; In the Court House. January 2, 1S74. S-ly-1 r. I?. BILIHY, Attorney at Law, FULTON,MISSOURI. "TTTITJi pract ice in the Courts of Callaway and adjoining counties. January 2, 1874. I.s-iy.1 1Z. .T. XA.TTETfcfcSON', BAKER -AND- Confectioner Corner Asylum and Nichols street, lIJlVrOJN, MISSOURI. O: II ETUUNINO thanks for past favors and respectfully request a continuance of the same, i desire to remind my friends and the puhliK generally that I am still on hand with a large and well selected stock of Confections, Also, always on hand, FrosH Ereaci, And a good assortment of Orders Tor Weddings and Parlies So licited. March 7, 1S73. (lC-tf.) Fall and Winter STOCK Ol? Mrs. B. Williams, FULTON, MO., KKKl'3 ON 1IANI A FINK STOCK OF HATS, BOraETETS., lf'fi.tli'Oi''fS iridvwei's. Ribbons, Laces, Silks, VELVETS, CHIGNONS, PLATS, SWITCHES, And everything usually kept in a M Qui Millinery M. 1M1SCELT.ANEOUS. JOHN T.BROWN, &KAI.EK IX Fresli Drap, ffieflicines aui Chemicals, Fancy and Toilet Articles, Sponges, Brushes, Perfumery, &c, FULTON, MO. PHYSICIANS' I'itESCUIl'TIONS Carefully compounded. Sept. IS, 1874. 45 ly. SOMETHING NEW! A NO HEW A. NAERZ WOULD announce to the citizens of Fulton and vicinity, that they have just opened a TVIEAr1 HHOP, on Columbia street, at the old" Pearl saloon, where they will keep the best quality of fresh meals, and will sell low for cash. Oive us a call. A. A. MAE HZ. - .bine 2, 1874. 33-tf. IVETfcTIIV HOUSE, MEXICO, MISSOURI, JAMES W. BROWN, Proprietor. flllUS house is thoroughly refitted and JL furnished. Accommodations equal to any house iu Mexico. Tins traveling public is respectfully invited to give this house a trial before going elsewhere. Jan. 10, 1874. 10-3m. $eiir git; tiller Y:;:, JAMES AS HZ, (Successor to Fisher & Ashe,) DKALER IX Mer, Lath, Shingles, Booh, Sash and Blinds Will fill orders promptly, at lowest possible rates. Lumber loaded on ears free of charge. April 17, 1S74. (33-tf.) MARBLE WORKS. OLD RELIABLE. THIC undersigned would respectfully call the attention of the public and especially of those whose duty it becomes to decorate the last resting place of friends with suitable Grave Stones, that he is always prepared, at his old stand on Asylum street, to execute any work in this "line, either of American or Foreign Marble of the best grades and at prices that defy competition. My motto: No Satisfaction Xo Pay I Call and see. CHRISTIAN F1SCI1KK. March 20, 1874. 19-tf.J C0 TO Godfrey's Gallery IIEUE PHOTOGRAPHS are made equal to any in North Missouri, and the most beautiful PORCLAIN PICTURES. OK MS As cheap and good as they can be had anywhere. A few copies of ?H0TWH!C mimi CERTIFICATES, . Still on hand. Special pains tahen with Children, and in Copying. (aUiCRY-Over Herdon & Harris' Drug Store. March 31, 1S71. 20-tf.l CALLAWAY COUNTY Savings Bank, PULTON, MO. EDWIN CURD, IV rwt BK?WT. President. .Cashier. DIRECTORS : D. M. TUCKER, JNO. A. ITOCKADAY, P. 15. NESI5IT, V. T. SXELL, EDWIN CUKD. "TTriTX do a General Banking and Ex- v cnanjre imsmcss. joucctions anu ue-tiiittanc.es Promptly Made. .laimary z, isi-i. IS-tS.t BLACK SMITH ING, AND HORSE SHOEING. T" AM NOW prepared to do all JL kinds of ltlacksmithing in the neatest, most substantial and ex peditious manner. . . AI,L, WORK. WARRANTED. IIOKSE-9HOEING $l.SO 1 will pay especial attention to H 0 R'S E SHOEING, And Hatter myself that I can give entire satisfaction to all who favor me wtth their patronage. 1 employ only first class workmen and superintend all work done at my establishment. Shop on Nichols street, just behind TKi.KGn.i'H olllco. A. SLOAN. Oct. 13, 1871. 48-tf.j New Blooxnfield DRUG STORE. rTIIIIS establishment is now in receipt of a JL full line of all articles kept in first class Drug stores, such as PURE DRUGS, Medicines and Chemicals, Perfumery, Toilet Articles, Stationery, Oils, Paints and Dye Stuffs, Lamps and Coal Oil and Patent IVZediolnes ! CHOICE CIGAES AND TOBACCO! THE 1JEST OF Whiskys, Imk d fa, Kept on hand, strictly for Medical Purposes. HI'rcD-eriptiniis Carefully Com-louiiilvl.u9SJ. S. UAH Ell M. I. Dee. 5, 1873. (4-3m.) HOLT'S SUMMIT. TO 0URPATR0NS. GENTI.KM KN -Onr loss by tho lata dis-" aster by lire makes ft. necessary that we call on all' who are indebted to our linn, to set llit up as soon as possible, as we are iu need of all the means tluitare due us, and more particularly so, since our loss is entire. Our insurance hud runout and had not been renewed. f knti.kmkn, accept our thanks for your past patronage and remember us, in this, our threat need. Yours, respeetftilly, llOLT&t'O. August 11,1871. 40-tf. MISCELLANEOUS t& MOTICE.SSSr ALL KINDS of Property that was taken or destroyed during the war by Federal or State troops, that lias not hcn paid for. and where proof can be furnished to sustajf such losses, may be ablu to recover for such property, by applying to RICKEY, Claim Agent. Ofpicr With Dr. Howard. April 3, 1874. 21-tf.l LIFE INSURANCE it. ii. fvi.ijl.oti: "T"S authorize.! to take applications for PoN JL ieies iu the froteetlon l.lte Insurance 1 ife Insurance Co. J. K. RICKEY, District Agent ct Agenl 21-tf April U, 1S74. SALOON OPEN ! MAYFIELD& WENGER HAVE opened a Saloon at Weiiger's old stand, on Columbia street, llrst house west of Fred Cohii's, where tliey are prepared to furnish the H of Lips d Cigars, to their old customers, and as many new ones as may please to call, and by proper treatment, to give satisfaction to all. May 2D, 1S74. (29-tf.) INSURANCE AGENCY. IF1. S. IPOSTOlSr REPRESENTS THE Connecticut Mai Life Insurance Ccmpioy of Sirtford, Conn, Assets Jnii. 1, '73, $34, 3C,1 11.13. FIRE COMPANIES. CONTINENTAL INS. CO. OF N. YORK; Assets, - $1,-28 1,351, Ml. PH(ENIX OF HARTFORD. Assets, Jan. 1, 73, $l,5S3,t;46.55 AMERICAN CENTRAL INS. CO., OF ST. LOUIS, M0. Assets -$544,943.68. ST. JOSEPH FIRE AND MARINE INS. CO. OF ST. JOSEPH, M0. Assets $44,157.2. These Companies are all A No. 1. Tho rates are fair, and those desiring insurance should call on the undersigned at once. Jj. 8. POSTON". August 8, 1873. Southern Savings Bask, FUL.TON, MISSOURI. CAPITAL STOCK $50,000, WitU Power to Increase Same to $250,000. F. G. NICIIOLS WM. Li. WILEELER,... Prksident. .Cashier. WIT,!. Buy aivl Sell Exchange on St. Louis and Eastern Cities; also, Oold Silver. County and City Warrants and Uucur-rent Money. t&- Accommodation-; Afforded, Deposits Received and Collections Made Promptly, and Remitted at Currpnt Rates on -Exchange. Hoard of Dirkctors. F. O. N ichols, 1. "W.-Boulware, Win. L. Wheeler, It. W.Turemau and Wm. II. Bailey. May 30. 1873. 25 Iy.1 PIiAIN TAT.TT f Read and remember that from and after this day, May 1st. 1874, 1 will 11 strictly to cash, and -prompt paying customers only. And what I mean by this is that all . bills must be settled on the first day of each month ; promptly. 1 do not propose to sell Meats to Torn, Dick and Harry, on credit, and wait until they get ready to pay for it. This is played out. It is cash at the counter, if you cannot pay weekly, or in 30 days. 1 mean what I say. With many thanks for past favors, I solicit a continuance of your patronage, hoping that by honorable dealing, and close attention to business, I may make it to your advantage to deal with me iu the future, on the cash principle. K. KELLER. May 22, 1874. 28-301.' CITY Boot and Shoe Store ! , LOOK OUT FOR BARGAINS AND OO TO WILLIAMSON'S, - i Southwest Corner Publia Square, , Fulton, Missouri. ALL LOW FOR CASH J Gents' Calf Sewed Boots, Gents' Calf Pegged Boots, Gents' Kip Pegged Boofs, Boys' Calf Pegged Boofs, . Youths' Calf and Kip Boots. And the Best Assortment of MEN'S ANDJOYS' SHOES. Ladies' Fine French Kid Shoes, (frou and side lace ;) Missus French Kid Shoes, (front and sido laco.) Also tho most completo assortment o! Childrens' Wear in Callaway county. MANUFACTDEED WEAR. lie is prepared to manufacture all kinds of MEN'S WEAR in tho best manner of tho best material and a perfect fit. NO FIT, NO PAY. CALL ON .A. "Williamson, Southwest Corner Public Square October 10, 1873. (40-tf.)